Ensnarement
by Sariniste
Summary: Hermione could scarcely believe she was visiting the Little Hangleton graveyard, with Tom Riddle of all people, and the worst part was that she was doing it of her own will. How had it come to this? Canon-compliant through Book 5. Not exactly time travel. HG/TR.


**Ensnarement – Chap. 1**

**A/N:** So this is my first try writing for a villain/heroine pairing in a fandom other than _Bleach_. Please let me know what you think. I welcome critique of all kinds, including issues or errors in characterization, canon facts, and plot points.

**Summary**: Hermione could scarcely believe she was visiting the Little Hangleton graveyard, with Tom Riddle of all people, and the worst part was that she was doing it of her own will. How had it come to this? Canon-compliant through Book 5, partially divergent after that. Not exactly time travel, but definitely messing with the canon time stream.

**Pairing**: Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger

**Rating**: M but will stay within FFnet's guidelines. The main characters are 18 or older in this story. (If there is interest, I can post an MA-rated version on another site.)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Harry Potter_ by J.K. Rowling. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

(Originally posted 9/6/12.)

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Hermione's feet dragged through the wet grass of the cemetery. The night air was cool and pleasant, spicy with the scent of fallen leaves, but she still shivered at the thought of what she was about to do. She was wearing formal black robes, and her wand was clutched tightly in a sweaty hand. Up ahead, she saw a circle of dark robed figures standing motionless around one of the graves near a tall yew tree, and dread surged within her.

In the dim light, she could just barely make out the features of the youth walking beside her, his pale skin gleaming in the moonlight under his tousled black hair, slender dark brows drawn together in a frown of concentration. He strode with grace and confidence through the long wet grass, his robes swishing around him with a gentle sound.

Hermione could scarcely believe she was visiting the Little Hangleton graveyard, with Tom Riddle of all people, and the worst part was that she was doing it of her own will. How could she have been talked into this?

Tom threw her a chill glance, his eyes hard and cold. "Make sure you play your part well, Mudblood," he hissed.

Hermione turned an equally frosty glare on him. "As long as you do the same, Riddle," she retorted.

A thin smile touched his lips. "I will. Although… I suspect my role may be easier to stomach than yours."

She scowled and opened her mouth to respond, but he had turned back toward the group ahead. "Now hush," he commanded, his eyes intent on the shrouded figures awaiting them. She shut her mouth indignantly and took a deep breath, schooling her expression to neutrality and drawing a hood over her bushy hair.

He removed the Disillusionment charm with a lazy flick of his wand and paced into the center of the small group of hooded figures, leaving Hermione in the shadows behind him. His movements were slow and deliberate, allowing the group to clearly view his youthful features as his gaze passed neutrally over their faces. Their magic hung in a thick, dark cloud around them. These were men who used the darkest of the Dark Arts regularly and with finesse; powerful, dangerous men. A thrill flickered through his body. First impressions were so important, he thought, as he allowed his own magic to flow from him in a rich, dark miasma, overpowering all the others' magic carelessly, tendrils of his power seeking the others' minds, probing without pity.

He could sense incomprehension and not a small amount of fear in those minds, and an arrogant smirk spread across his handsome features. "I'm pleased that you all responded so promptly," he said, his voice low and vibrating. Some of the figures shifted nervously, and his smile widened. "Surprised to see this face? Tell me," he purred, "have you missed our little gatherings?"

There was no response for a moment, and Riddle's face darkened. He raised his wand in a smooth gesture and pointed it at random at one of the hooded men. "_Crucio_."

The man screamed, a shriek of insane agony ripping from his throat, and he crumpled to the ground, writhing and moaning. Tom stepped back gracefully to follow his motions with his wand, focusing his magic through the slim rod in his fingers, savoring the rush of power he could once again channel at will. As the hapless man thrashed on the damp earth, Tom moved closer, eyes glittering as he reveled in the agony of the man cowering at his feet. He could sense the terror from the other men in the circle as well, and it pleased him.

He released the curse and lifted his wand. The man crept forward on hands and knees and turned his face upwards in supplication, tears streaming from his eyes. He bent his head and kissed the hem of Tom's robes.

"Master," he moaned, "forgive me."

Tom pulled the fabric of his robe away from the other's grasp with a grimace of distaste. He glanced around the circle of men, enjoying the tense rigidity of their stances. "When I ask a question," he said very quietly, his gaze going from one to the next in turn, "I expect an immediate answer. You may have become soft and unused to my discipline in my absence, but that changes now. Do I make myself clear?"

There were immediate subdued murmurs of "Yes, my Lord," from around the circle, and Riddle lowered his lashes with satisfaction.

"Good." He strode to the gravestone at the center of the circle. "Now, as to the purpose for which I have called you here tonight." He raised his wand and conjured a low granite table in front of the gravestone.

He made an imperious gesture, and Hermione slowly walked forward. She raised both hands to her hood and lowered it, her bushy hair springing free. Tom watched the faces of the men in the circle carefully, noting well-suppressed expressions of recognition and surprise. He was pleased that not one of them dared to speak the questions that must surely be uppermost in their thoughts as Tom stepped forward with a dark, mocking smile on his lips and gestured to the table.

"Welcome, Hermione Granger. Your place awaits."

Slowly, her eyes locked on his, she hitched up her robes and sat on the edge of the table. She could feel the cold of the stone through the fabric against her thighs and she shivered involuntarily.

Tom approached her, that casual smirk still on his lips as he placed the tip of his wand to her throat. She swallowed but raised her chin defiantly as she glared into his eyes. He began to draw the wand downward, murmuring a spell under his breath. Her robes parted magically as the wand moved.

She was wearing nothing underneath her robes, and she saw approval in Tom's eyes as his wand tip traced along her skin, leaving a trail of tingling warmth between her breasts. She inhaled sharply but held still as rage flared in her eyes.

Tom smirked. "Good," he whispered. "I'm pleased you've prepared yourself appropriately for the ritual." He moved closer to her, his fingers caressing her cheek with the faintest of touches. Involuntarily, she felt herself responding to his proximity and cursed herself. Staring into his dark eyes only a few inches away, she thought furiously how unfair it was that his features were so regular, even beautiful: those slender eyebrows, patrician nose, high cheekbones, skin like ivory; that his scent was an exotic musk, a far too-appealing package concealing the evil within.

"Lie down," he commanded, finally drawing back from her; and stiffly, drawing the edges of her robe together with one hand, she lay down upon the cold stone surface.

He leaned over her, bending down until his lips almost brushed her ear. "Courage, my dear," he breathed, his eyes gleaming in the low light. Her eyes flashed with suppressed fury and he smirked.

He straightened. "Start a banefire," he ordered, tossing the command casually over his shoulder. Two of his followers hastened to obey, clearing a space magically, summoning the appropriate ingredients, and casting _Incendio_. The magical bonfire sprung into existence, its flames gleaming unnaturally yellow but yielding no warmth.

Tom moved to the other side of Hermione so that he was now facing the fire over her supine body. He raised his wand and glanced once more at his followers, reaching out with his senses. The area was well-warded, he noted with satisfaction. No one would see or hear them, and the repelling charms along the border of the magical circle were well cast. So at least there were some competent wizards among his servants.

He looked down at Hermione. "Spread your arms and legs," he ordered.

She looked as though she were about to cast _Avada Kedavra_ wordlessly at him, but complied.

He smiled at her, and then very gently took the two sides of her robe and spread them apart. He stood looking down at her naked torso, a pleased smirk on his face, his eyes half-lidded. Hermione could see the glint of his dark eyes beneath his lashes. Her breath caught as his long fingers began to caress her skin, trailing lazily over her breasts and along her flat belly, then circling lower, lingering over the most sensitive areas. She stared up at him stonily but could not help the flush on her cheeks, the betraying tremble of her thighs as his fingers slipped between them. She closed her eyes so that she would not have to see the stirrings of something she was afraid to recognize in his dark eyes.

Tom raised his head and beckoned to one of his followers. "Come here," he said, and the man approached to stand at the side of the table, glancing down at the girl lying there.

"The Mudblood is under _Imperio_?" he asked with a sneer, summoning bravado.

Tom shrugged carelessly. "A variant of it," he said. With one long finger, he gently traced a curve on Hermione's inner thigh. "For this ritual, it's more effective if the subject is aware of what's going on." He tilted his head as Hermione's eyes flashed fire. "As well as... more amusing."

There was a low snickering from one side of the circle. Tom spun, his wand out, his brows lowered in a scowl. At the sight of his expression, the man who had laughed gulped in terror and dropped to his knees. "Forgive me, my Lord, I meant nothing." Tom waited in silence for a moment, his wand still pointed at the kneeling man, watching as the sweat dripped down his servant's forehead, his own face impassive.

After a long pause, he turned back to the rest of the group, his eyes roaming over them. "This is a rather advanced and delicate Dark Arts ritual," he explained, "and it is crucial that no one speak or move except by my order. I shall need absolute silence at all times unless otherwise stated."

He waited until the murmur of assent had risen from the entire circle. "Further, it is essential that each one of my commands be obeyed instantly and without question, regardless of its nature. Fail to obey and you risk my extreme displeasure." The menace in his voice was unmistakable, and he noted that more than one of the men had broken out in a cold sweat. His eyes moved around the circle. Good. He had them all now. It was exactly what he needed, all their minds subjugated to his, all their vital energy ready to be harnessed to his will.

He pointed with his wand at the two men still frozen in the center of the circle. "You—kneel over there. And you—here." Silently, they obeyed, moving to the places he indicated and dropping to their knees on the damp ground, and his lips curled slightly.

He looked back down at Hermione. The cold air had brought goosebumps out all over her bare skin, and she was starting to shiver, her lips turning a faint shade of blue. Tom frowned. Carefully, so that none of the watching men could detect it, he cast a subtle warming spell over her, and waited until her skin smoothed out and he could see her muscles relaxing in the warmth.

He extended his magical awareness, the questing tendrils of his presence darting and exploring, tangling in the leaves of the yew trees surrounding the cemetery and moving beyond, seeking signs of life or thought. No human was near. Off in the distance, an owl hooted, and he could sense rodents scampering, their noses quivering in the long, wet grass.

It was time to begin. He held his wand loosely between the palms of both hands and inhaled deeply, drawing in the dark tang of exotic ingredients from the bonfire overlaid with the scent of crushed dead leaves and damp vegetation, centering his magic for the tricky and elaborate ritual ahead. He reached out with a delicate touch into the minds of his followers, stringing them one by one onto the thread of his will. Then he tugged more urgently, weaving the threads of their magic into a powerful cord spiraling around the circle, intensifying the draw on their power recklessly, setting up the magical structure for his use and his desires alone. He could sense the strain in a couple of the weaker members of the group as they struggled to feed him power at the rate he demanded.

Probably none of them would die or be crippled by the techniques he would employ tonight. And if they did? He gave a mental shrug. It would merely purge his ranks of the weak.

As the magic continued to spiral upward, he paused and caught the eyes of the woman on the stone slab meaningfully. "Are you ready, my dear?" he murmured.

Not waiting for an answer, he raised his wand to begin the elaborate casting.

XxXxXxX

**A/N:** So, is this worth continuing? Please let me know if you want more of this story or if I should drop it. I have an outline for a novel-length story drafted, but I won't bother continuing if you don't find this an interesting beginning. You can just vote "continue" or "drop" if you don't have time for a long review. (You can also let me know if you want the MA version or not.)

If you do have time, I'd appreciate hearing your opinion on my characterizations of Tom and Hermione, and if I set up the suspense well in this introductory scene. Thanks!


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